


Crescendo

by Anonymous



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Incest, Mild Blood, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "It grazed me. It's just a graze, Will - Will," he repeats, John's voice strong and soft as every pleasant dream Will had of him. His father, his father and him. He would come home to Will in them, and everything would be alright. "Will, look at me. S'alright." John holds the side of Will's face, giving him a handsome smile. "S'alright now."
Relationships: John Parry/Will Parry
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4
Collections: Anonymous





	Crescendo

"Dad..."

The echos of a rifle fired... they linger. Will can feel them there, on the insides of his teeth, and behind his eyes. He grips onto the back of John's patchwork-blue coat until his fingers seem numb. Hearing the other man's laboured breathing in Will's ear. Everything's too sharp and too real.

Sayan Kötör caws, her beak ripping angrily into the enemy daemon's throat. It perishes, turning into a cloud of sun-shimmering Dust.

She takes off.

The man with the rifle drops dead where he stands.

Will pulls out of John's arms, slowly, and gawks down at the bloodstain.

"Dad," he says, louder and panicked.

John's hand presses against his own right side, his fingertips colouring a wet and shiny vermilion.

"It grazed me. It's just a graze, Will - Will," he repeats, John's voice strong and soft as every pleasant dream Will had of him. His father, his father and him. He would come home to Will in them, and everything would be alright. "Will, look at me. S'alright." John holds the side of Will's face, giving him a handsome smile. "S'alright now."

No, no, it's not. That man was trying to kill Will. Or he was trying to kill Will's father.

_Or both of them._

_They could have both died._

_And... Will could do nothing._

_Nothing._

_Nothing... nothing..._

Will trembles hard in place, gasping for air through his clenched teeth and feeling dizzy.

"No, shh. Will. I want you to take a deep breath, in," John tells him firmly, and yet as soft as before. He holds Will's hands in his, squeezing them.

Will closes his moistening eyes, breathing in even though it's difficult. His chest feels tight as a drum.

_"-and out, yes-now in-"_

He sucks in another breath, heart pounding.

_"-out-good, good good-"_

A screeching bird call interrupts. Sayan Kötör reappears on a boulder, canting her little osprey head as John searches her gaze.

"How many left? How many are coming?" he mumbles.

"It was only him."

"Good." John's thumb rubs a comforting circle over Will's opened palm. Will's eyes, bloodshot a bright red, peek open. "How about Mr. Scoresby?"

The osprey daemon lowers her head mournfully.

John asks nothing else, going solemn. He sniffs and lets go of Will's hands to wipe over his eyelids.

"Scoresby?" Will says, his brows furrowing. "Lee Scoresby?"

"How do you know that name, Will?"

"I don't," Will admits. "Lyra does - my friend Lyra. And Serafina, the witch we are traveling with."

_"Lyra?"_

John grins uncertainly, wheezing out a laugh into his forearm.

"The worlds grow so much smaller, it seems. Will, darling..." Much to his surprise and confusion, Will's pulse quickens at _darling_ , and he doesn't really understand why, "I made a promise to Mr. Scoresby to have the Bearer of the Subtle Knife protect Lyra - Lyra Belacqua, Lord Asriel's daughter - is this your Lyra?"

Will nods.

"Then it seems you have already begun to fulfill his dying wish without my help."

"Dad, I don't understand..."

"Come," John whispers, gesturing to a dazed-eyed Will and slipping an arm around his son. "Let us find Lyra and I can explain this to both of you."

Their footsteps echo across the canyon's ridge. Will barely knows which direction to go once they climb down the steepest ledge.

He cannot believe what's happened.

His father- _his father_ -

_Alive-_

_Looking for him-_

Lightning crackles overhead. The first few raindrops pitter against the top of Will's head. A storm blusters into existence, and John gazes up as if expecting it. He leads Will towards a canyon cave, taking shelter alongside him, cupping at his wound and finding no true damage asides from the bleeding.

There's no bandages. He probably doesn't need any.

Will sits down on a flat, smooth rock inside the cave and looks over John sitting across from him.

He's got bruises on his face like Will. Reddish scabs trying to heal over.

Will doesn't understand all of the tattoos inked into John's pale skin on his hands and wrists and knuckles. Most of his black hair either shaved down or gathered up haphazardly into a bun. John resembles his photos only a little. The videos of John's interviews before his Arctic expedition that Will memorized by heart.

Everything's _real_. It's _different_ now from how Will imagined.

They start talking. Will doesn't know how to explain it all, so he starts with his life before leaving for Cittagazze.

John appears so heartbroken when Will talks about Elaine Parry being so lost in her head and how hard it was at school and how Will decided to take part of boxing lessons.

"Dad, what's the matter?"

John finally smiles at him, thinking of how Will frets the same as Elaine.

"I've found my boy," he says hoarsely. "I cannot think of anything being the matter."

Will's smile echoes him.

"Mum always said you were a bad liar..."

"Did she?" John murmurs, amused. "What else did she say?"

He shrugs.

"That you and I were the same... I was supposed to take up your mantle and help fix what's broken about the world."

Will relaxes as John's hand cups the back of his neck. His father reaches for him, easing them closer, whispering how Will is _more_ than John could ever be.

_Even if Will cannot see it yet._

"Lyra thinks I'm brave," Will mutters, looking down. "Mister Paradisi said so too."

"You admire Lyra, don't you?"

"Suppose so..." Will shrugs again, and he can feel John's eyes curiously roaming him. Nobody's ever looked at him like he was special enough. Nobody wanted to listen to him or be his friend. Except Lyra. "She's my best friend..." Will meets John's eyes, making an doubtful and embarrassed noise. "What? Do you think she's my girlfriend or something...?"

He's perplexed by John's loud laugh.

"Do you think you're not enough for a girl to take a liking to you, Will?"

Will shakes his head.

"I don't really think about that stuff..."

John's hand gently touches Will's cheek. A hot and bashful emotion crawls into Will's chest.

"You have your mother's beauty," he tells Will. "You should be proud of that."

Will finds himself smiling so big, flustered. Hearing someone else say nice things about his mum, and him, doesn't happen nearly enough. He's nearly greedy for it.

"Did you miss her?"

"I did," John says, nodding and leaning further in as Will stares at him in a growing and dumbfounded awe, "and I have missed you most of all, Will. You were the first bright light to greet the morning and the last name I carried through my dreams." He cradles Will's head with both of his hands, murmuring that _they are together again... that he will never let Will feel alone again... that he doesn't have to be the Bearer alone... that he will do whatever it takes to help Will..._

There's so much Will wants to say to him. So many questions.

He's never properly felt listened to. He's had to bury his pain and fear and concerns when it came to his mum. He's missed his father so much, and Will cries, and it feels wrong and mortifying. John shushes him, calling him brave, calling him strong and _there isn't any way that I can be sorry enough about missing everything in your life up until now..._

_I hope one day I can make it up to you..._

Will leans his forehead against John's forehead, breathing in. Out, in. In the scent of forest rain and dirt.

Echo...

It's an echo of warmth vibrating between them. A crescendo. Will feels it on his lip accidentally brushing to John's mouth, and he presses _in, in, in,_ and...

Will pants, leaning out and going dazed again.

"I'm sorry..."

_"I'm so sorry..."_

"Don't be. Will," John says patiently, grasping onto his wrists before Will can flee, "Will. Will, you haven't done anything wrong. I understand this is confusing."

_"But..."_

The rainstorm fades outside of their cave. John looks at it until the greyness fades into sunlight, like he can control it or something.

"We should move on, Will."

Will mumbles _no nono_ , fisting onto the end of John's coat when the other man stands. John turns his head to him. Will's eyes glisten with tears overflowing.

_No, please._

John thumbs off Will's chin, stooping down to tenderly grip onto Will's nape without expression and pressing a closemouthed kiss to Will's lips.

It's _real_.

Will's pulse thuds like drums. It happens so quickly that it may have been nothing.

"I love you," John declares, grinning softly like _nothing, nothing's the matter,_ and pressing another kiss into Will's hair before getting back up.

_So many questions._

He's an echo, a ghost, an invisible burn on Will's tear-stained mouth.

He's...


End file.
